Artistic License
by nicoli-boli
Summary: Astrid is thoroughly pleased with her innovations to the design of Hiccup's new getup. Hiccup, not so much. Pre-HtTYD2. Ficlet.


_Artistic License_

"Astrid?"

The blonde didn't even turn to acknowledge the boy who called her name, engrossed as she was in scratching the scales on Stormfly's neck. The dragon squawked and wiggled her shoulders in delight as Astrid continued to rub circles over her neck. The noise didn't quite cover the impatience in Hiccup's clinking steps as he made his way down into the stables.

"Seriously, what are these?" He asked again when he stopped only a few feet behind her.

Astrid paused in pampering Stormfly, who screeched indignantly, and rolled her eyes with a sigh before glancing over her shoulder.

"Babe, is this really so pressing that it can't wait five…" She stammered to a halt when her eyes locked onto Hiccup where stood with his arms decidedly crossed, surveying her with a half-lidded stare. While she did notice the attitude radiating from his upper half, she had registered his lower half first. More precisely, what clothed his lower half. She grinned. Hiccup glowered.

"Those, Hiccup, are a work of art."

"Oooooh no…"

"No, really. Much more flattering than that old getup. Who needs that long tunic anyway? Left far too much to the imagination."

"Astrid…" he hissed. Over the years, the girl had proven to have some fiendishly outlandish ideas, but this was just too much. He stepped toward her with every intent of capturing the girl and tickling her into submission, perhaps releasing her on the condition she redact her alterations to his design, but she quickly sidestepped out of reach. She snorted at his dumbfounded expression.

"I'm serious!" she continued through her laughter, darting around the back of Stormfly's leg. When Hiccup continued to pursue her, she circled all the way around and darted under the dragon's belly.

He struggled to follow, complaining loudly as he found himself unable to swing around Stormfly's leg quite as gracefully. Once he'd managed, he was delayed again when he discovered he was a few inches too tall to adequately maneuver himself under the dragon after her. He shot the girl a sideways glare from where he was stuck under Stormfly's belly when she couldn't hold in her laughter. It was immensely gratifying that, although she was the shorter one now, she continued to succeed in using her height to her advantage. She leaned over, palms pressed to her knees, and cocked her head to the side to meet Hiccup's eyes. "Those are some expertly placed seams. If I do say so myself."

"I should have known," Hiccup scoffed. "There was no way you would have offered to make boring old leggings without some ulterior motive."

Astrid gasped when she found herself face to face with her boyfriend, who to her surprise had freed himself and planted himself in front of her. He was dangerously close to trapping her around the waist before Astrid sashayed out of his grasp yet again, leaping to grab ahold of one of Stormfly's horns and swinging away from the exasperated, but clearly very amused, boy.

"Alright, alright!" Hiccup cried, holding his hands up in defeat. "I'll admit that the craftsmanship is superior, real excellent stuff, dear, but did the seam _really_ have to go _right there_?"

"Yep!"

Hiccup would have smacked his palm to his forehead if he weren't distracted by the fact that her response sounded from above him. He craned his neck to see her grinning wider still down at him from where she stood on top of Stormfly's saddle.

"The best ones are on the _opposite_ side. In my honest opinion," she continued. Her voice traveled behind him with her statement, and Hiccup suppressed the impulse to cover his backside when she moved to lean around the back of her saddle to ogle at the seams in question. He did not, however, suppress the impulse to wait an extra second or two before spinning around to face her. He allowed his glower to melt into a smirk before surrendering.

"Miss Hofferson," he said, proffering his hand to the girl still perched atop her dragon, "would you be so generous as to step down from your dragon? I would like a word."

She lithely hopped down to land in front of him, taking his offered hand only after she had straightened up. Her grin was still plastered on her face. "Yes, milord?"

"Because the garment in question is so very well made and…deliberately designed, I will be keeping it." Astrid had to press her free hand to her mouth to keep from cackling. "For the time being," he quickly amended. Shaking her head, Astrid leaned forward to press a swift kiss to his mouth.

"Good," she replied, delighted that, for all his outward blustering, his expression now told only warmth and sincerity. Success. She knew this plan was a stroke of sheer genius.

She turned on her heel to exit the stables, but not before reaching down for a quick squeeze – so easily accessible now! - that left the boy blushing crimson.

"I'll need a good long while before I get tired of admiring them."

* * *

NEeeeeeeeeeeerds

Hello this is what happens when dorks get into sexy things. Dork flirting. Dorky dork dork dorks.

Those were some tight pants Hiccup was sporting in that mother of a sequel. I wonder who designed those. Hmm. He loves them. He knows they show off the booty and he loves them.

* * *

How to Train Your Dragon © DreamWorks Animation and Cressida Cowell


End file.
